Dearly Beloved
by Waruitenshi
Summary: "Back in the beginning of things, it all seemed so simple… or simpler at least. There were still difficulties to be had and overcome of course, but it was nothing compared to what happened that night, just before the dawn… when it all went wrong…" Alexander Anderson/Enrico Maxwell. Slash/Yaoi One Shot. Rated "M" for my marvelous madness! You've been warned. More details inside.


**Inside Summary: My take on the relationship between Anderson and Maxwell; from how they got together back when they first met at the orphanage to how their stories end. Alexander Anderson/Enrico Maxwell. Slash/Yaoi. Rated "M" for my marvelous madness! You've been warned.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hellsing! If I DID, it would've been soooo freakin' AWESOME! XD**

**Author's Note(s): BEFORE anyone complains or flames, Lmfao, I just wanna say that FIRST, these two won't be doing anything too serious until Maxwell is of age, and secondly I'm probably not the only person who saw this pairing for what it was and what I made it into, and I doubt I am the only writer who wrote them as such either. If you don't like it then you shouldn't be reading it. If you read this simply to flame or be a jerk, then you are obviously a loser whom I'll happily and easily ignore. **

**XD For those of you who like and enjoy this pairing, regardless of the age thing in it, LMFAO, then YAY! I wrote this because I enjoy writing, and had to get this storyline out of my head before it ate away the last of my sanity. XD **

**This is how Maxwell comes off to me as a kid and a person in general. And how I think Anderson is and would be in this situation, etc. Also, its fact that this sort of thing (the underage romance or whatever) happens every day, so it ain't gonna stop cuz you didn't read this. XD **

**This is all based upon my own OPINION and imagination, as are everyone elses fics. So yeah, enjoy and review if you have nice things to say. Lmfao. I wrote their accents like they had them in the Manga I have. ****XD so hope you like it. Maxwell speaks very good English apparently but has his accent, while Anderson pretty much slaughters the language. I had to browse my mangas to get his accent as well as I have it in here. X3 But I'm happy with how this turned out.**

**Also, to those waiting for updates to "Hellsing: The Dusk" which is my "UNOFFICIAL" XD sequel to the "Hellsing" and "Hellsing: The Dawn" mangas, no worries, I got sidetracked by this for a day so that's why I did not update yet. :3 It's all good! **

**OKAY! So, I think that's all I gotz ta say for now. **

**Remember to review please! :3**

* * *

**"Dearly Beloved"**

* * *

Back in the beginning of things, it all seemed so simple… or simpler at least. There were still difficulties to be had and overcome of course, but it was nothing compared to what happened that night, just before the dawn… when it all went wrong…

But, digressing only gets one so far. So let's start back where it all began. Where it REALLY began.

He remembered the day as if it had just happened, the day when a new arrival came to be at Ferdinand Luke's Orphanage. There the Paladin had stood, awaiting the new addition to the orphanage with a pleasant and happy smile on his rugged face.

Alexander Anderson had been quite surprised by the appearance of the young lad when he and another priest approached. He had silvery hair and the most striking purple eyes! The priest had never seen anyone quite like him before.

And while he looked so innocent, there was much more to the boy… His very presence, the way he handled himself, it simply commanded respect. Like everyone who gazed upon him should bow down and pledge their loyalty. It quite startled the blonde man, but his smile never wavered in the slightest. If anything it made it brighter.

The boy began to speak to him in such an adorable and sorrowful tone that tugged at his heart wantingly; as if the silverette pulled hard enough and ripped it out of his chest that they might both find some solace. If it would've helped, he'd gladly have done so. But this was a bit before he became a regenerator.

It seemed his name was Enrico Maxwell, and he was the bastard child of some mistress his father had, that he did not want. So, off the lad was sent to the orphanage of the church, and into the caring hands of the Paladin.

Time passed, and true to his words, young Enrico made no effort to make friends. He avoided the children entirely. Even little Yumiko couldn't so much as get a smile from the boy.

His ignoring of the girl and occasional insults to make her leave him alone usually caused little Heinkel to defend her friend, and then a fight would ensue that Anderson would have to break up.

In fact, the only one who was able to get the boy to speak in a non-insulting and rude manner (which was as close to friendly as the kid got really), was Alexander. And so, he thought he might try to be the one to help ease the boy into making friends by giving him a little extra attention.

A little bit of conversation here, asking him to help with something there; like tending to the garden or some other chore that he could make fun for the child. And bit by bit, the boy seemed to grow more accustomed to being around him.

Young Maxwell didn't scowl or look as grumpy when Anderson greeted him in the morning or spent time with the older man. He didn't get into so many fights because he knew it upset the blonde priest. And even seemed to enjoy assisting in the chores Anderson asked him to help with.

It was true, that Enrico had yet to make any friends of his own age, but he wasn't AS rude to Yumiko now, and he and Heinkel seemed to more glare and exchange dirty looks than physically fight. But as far as the young lad was concerned, the Paladin was his friend, and that was the only one he needed or wanted.

Anderson hadn't taken that into consideration of course when this all started, nor how desperately starved for attention the little silverette was (since he never got any from anyone else), and that the more he gave the boy, the more the youth craved.

Which was a bit of a problem, since most of the children loved playing with the priest and trying to gain his attention. But not in the way Maxwell wanted it. Their wants were childish and silly. Someone who was tall enough to reach things for them or simple trivialities that meant nothing to the boy.

The silverette was far more mature in his mind. No, he knew what he wanted, and he was fairly confident that he could get it. It would take some time, and he'd have to be careful, but he would have the Paladin all to himself eventually.

One day at breakfast, Maxwell arrived early as he had been doing for a while now, to help Anderson set it up. But today, he asked if perhaps he and the priest could eat their breakfast together.

A seemingly innocent and surprisingly pleasant request of course, since Enrico typically liked to eat his food off in the courtyard away from everyone else (though always in view of Anderson so he could watch the man).

So that morning found the two having their morning meal together where Maxwell liked to sit. They ate in partial silence, but it was rather comfortable. Though, why those purple eyes stared so intently at his mouth while he ate, Anderson couldn't fathom.

Soon the lad was asking him to share lunch with him too, and dinner. Maxwell became a bit more talkative, but only in asking Anderson about religious subjects or other such topics that the older man enjoyed.

He loved hearing how passionately he spoke, how those green eyes lit up with every word. Just listening to that thick, mesmerizing accent and warm voice was soothing to the anger and irritation he usually felt when not around the good Father.

It was a rather peaceful afternoon, when young Maxwell went in search of the Paladin, as he tended to after the days studies were done. Mostly just to know where he was, and maybe use the excuse to offer his help to better monopolize his attention.

The youth found the tall man asleep at a desk in the library. Anderson had fallen asleep reading some scripture, his face resting on his loosely curled fist, that rested on the table so that he was still in a somewhat upright position.

The silverette was rather stunned by the simple yet radiant scene. The sunlight shone down on the blonde hair, making it look sunnier than usual, and illuminated the mans strong features. He looked a lot like a cross between a handsome priest and a noble sentry resting peacefully like that.

Enrico walked over as quietly as he could, and just sat down across from him to watch. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. A light pink hue dusting his fair features when he heard the rumbling sound the other made when exhaling; apparently something in the priests dreams was "Hmm" worthy.

He felt a tingling rush through him, and his hand instinctively reached down to smooth over his lap; making anyone who might've seen (though thankfully there was no one there) believe he was getting the creases out, when in fact it was how he discretely touched himself.

That blazing gaze of his fixated on the unconscious and unaware Paladin, as the lad cautiously stroked himself through the fabric of his pants. He was going to be about thirteen soon, and though he sort of had an understanding of the hormonal issues boys his age typically had, his was more of a finely attuned lust.

He knew how to restrain himself pretty well; always having liked the idea of power and being in control. Though at the same time, it made him shiver when ever he thought about what it might be like to surrender that power to the dashing priest…

What would it be like to have those large, capable hands on him? Would it feel better if Anderson kept the gloves on or more intimate if he took them off? Personally he wanted to experience both ways, and imagined that it might feel similar to the way it felt now, as the soft fabric rubbed against his hardened flesh. Though, more than likely, it would feel _much_ better.

"Teacher…" The boy breathed wantonly, just barely above a whisper. His tongue flicking out to lick his lips as his hungry eyes traveled to look at Anderson's. How would the priest kiss? Would he be inexperienced about the matter? For some reason, Maxwell didn't think he would…

Something about the rugged man told him that he hadn't always worked as a servant of the Lord. And that in a way, he was much more than just a mere Paladin. His eyes fluttered briefly closed as he gave himself a rough squeeze; wishing it were the blondes instead of his own; the very idea only making him hotter.

The fact that he was masturbating right across from his dear Father Anderson only serving to heighten his pleasure. He inhaled deeply as he leaned a tad further across the table; breathing in the faint aroma of paper, fresh air, herbs, and for some reason metal, that made up the unique scent he'd come to learn as Alexander Anderson.

A quiet groan almost escaped his lips, but he managed to muffle it by biting his lip. Young Maxwell was so lost in what he was doing, that when he saw those dazzlingly green, tired eyes slowly opening and looking right at him, that a soft moan escaped him and a quiver wracked his body before he realized those orbs widening in shock.

Well, it was needless to say just how taken aback the groggy Paladin had been to wake up and hear the boy make a sound like _that_, and with such a lewd look on that angelic face of his!

It caused a sensual stirring in him; as if a dark and hungry beast within him had been disturbed from the long slumber in its cage and awoke with a chilling growl. But he had never felt like that towards any of the dear children in his care, and wasn't supposed to, much less this particular one…

Although… Maxwell had been different from the day he arrived, the blonde knew, but this sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen. Perhaps he had imagined it? Well, that COULD have been argued if it wasn't for the way the lad was leaned over the table and staring at him so wantonly.

Or the blush and somewhat horrorstricken look he had when he realized that Anderson was now awake. They sat there, frozen in silence; the boys hand halted mid stroke. He wasn't sure what to do. God! He was such an idiot to let himself go like that right in front of the man!

Now what was he to do? Surely the Father would be angry with him and ask questions! What if they sent him to another orphanage or if Anderson himself decided to leave? So many horrid and hurried thoughts raced through the young lads mind, and as his anger at himself rose, he felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

Anderson's eyebrows rose as he saw the behavior that came over the silverette. And how tears began trickling down his bonny face. In an instant, the Paladin found himself out of his own chair and kneeling on one knee in front of the boy; reaching up a white gloved hand to wipe the little droplets away.

"Thar, thar laddie… Dinnae cry noo…" Anderson soothed with a warm smile. Maxwell was startled by the kindness, his eyes crescenting halfway as he tried not to restrain his tears; though the warmth of the priest only seemed to make them fall more. He leaned into the touch of the hand that cupped his cheek; the thumb caressing lightly over it to comfort him and dry the tears.

Maxwell couldn't take it, and suddenly sprang forward; throwing his arms around the Paladin and burying his face in the front of his priestly robes. Further startling the blonde, whose expression softened back into that kindly smile as his long, strong arms wrapped protectively around the boys lithe body.

He rubbed small circles on the lads back with one hand, making soft shushing sounds every now and then. With the way the boy cried, each tear felt like some sort of silent apology, and in return he gave the younger forgiveness in the form of comfort.

They stayed there for how long, neither knew. It could've been a second or an eternity, and they wouldn't have cared. Too wrapped up in each other to have even noticed.

Anderson trying to console the damaged little angel in his arms, and Maxwell trying desperately to stay as long as he could in them; finding this place to be much better than the cruel world outside of the embrace.

Why hadn't he been more careful? How could he let his guard down like that? If only the older man hadn't looked so irresistible, hadn't been so vulnerable and made it so easy to do… He didn't want the priest to hate or be disgusted with him. Maxwell didn't think he could stand to lose anyone else…

His small hands clung tightly to the front of the mans robes, his face pressed against the mans breast; able to hear the rhythmic beating of that benevolent heart. The soft sobs making his body judder every now and then.

Eventually, he calmed down enough so that he only sniffled every now and then. Anderson made to ease them apart so they could talk, but Maxwell was very reluctant to do so.

When he managed to pry the youth from his chest, he let the other keep that viselike grip on his robes. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the boys face, and when he looked a little better; though still upset, Anderson tucked it into Maxwell's pocket for the boy to keep.

"Thar… that's better noo isnae it?" Anderson said smilingly. The lad gave a hesitant nod and a sniffle. Damn he felt so pathetic. Always in the presence of this man was he ever humbled… and how he couldn't help liking it.

"Noo, why donae ye explain why ye were cryin'?" Maxwell averted his eyes to the ground; though he wasn't actually looking at it. A long finger pressed lightly to the bottom of his chin and steered his face back to look at the Paladin.

He felt his face heat up some; sorrowful and wanting, large purple eyes staring into radiant and genial green that grew a fraction at the way the other looked at him. And even more when the silverette leaned forward again.

At first, Anderson thought that maybe the youth would cry again, but when he felt himself being pulled forward, he instinctively moved with the unspoken beckon and soon found soft, delicate lips pressing hungrily against his own.

Maxwell felt like he had just died and gone to Heaven; not even caring if such a thing would land him in the deepest pits of Hell itself, for this was certainly worth any divine punishment.

Anderson had no idea what to think. His brain seemed to have decided to stop working for a few seconds. This shouldn't be happening, was one of the things he thought. It was a sin wasn't it?

Although, actually, now that he thought about it… After the few thousand times he'd read over all the scripture that ever could be read, he had naught but found anything saying that engaging in any romantic or carnal activity with one of the same sex was sinful.

And while he wanted to feel bad that he was currently kissing a child who wasn't even a teen yet, it was actually the boy that was kissing him. And in the days not long before (and even in some countries today), they did have marriages between those much younger and older than they were now.

But even so, Maxwell may have been mature beyond his years, and always had that quality about him that melted the Paladins heart and made him want to spoil the lad, he was still a child in his care… shouldn't that give him pause?

The soft moan that muffled against his mouth broke him out of his troubled thoughts, as he found himself returning the kiss with surprise. Fingers curled in the front of his robes; trying to bring them closer as the silverette pressed his lips a little harder against the others fervently.

Alexander placed a hand on either of the others slender shoulders and pulled them apart. He bit down on his own tongue to avoid growling at the sight the younger male was in.

His breathing coming out in short puffs as he tried to catch his breath, a few strands of his composed and starry hair having fallen out of place into his face, and his lips reddened from their previous activities; and now pouting temptingly from having been made to stop what they were doing.

"T-teacher… _please_." Enrico mewled softly as he gripped the others robes and gave a tug. It made him regret having pulled away, but he was concerned for Maxwell and wanted to find out what was going on. He put on a serious face as he regarded the youth questioningly.

"Maxwell, why did ye do that jus noo?" The silverette frowned, feeling hurt that the other man didn't understand, but not entirely surprised… He knew the man saw him as just another one of his flock to Sheppard so diligently over, but Maxwell wanted to be more than that.

"I… please don't be angry Teacher…" He managed after taking a deep breath to try and regain himself.

"O' course nae. Ah just want ta know." The blonde man assured with a small smile breaking through the sternness, and it seemed to relieve the other.

"Ah care aboot ye is all." His hand slid from the lads shoulder to rest on his cheek as a sign of reassurance, and the silverette gave a curt nod; leaning lightly into the touch again.

"Well you see… I… I love you Father Anderson." The silverette confessed, his voice rising with each word until it was stronger and more confident; his cheeks stained a rosy hue as those amethyst orbs blazed ardently.

"Wh-wha..?" The man breathed in that Scottish accent of his. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Such a sweet, albeit moody, lad was in love with a simple servant of the Lord like himself? He couldn't help how his heart swelled at the confession as he tried to process it.

"I love you Teacher." Maxwell repeated with conviction to match the serious gaze he gave the priest.

"But ye're only a child." His thunderstruck response caused the lads frown to deepen and his knuckles to turn white as he gripped the black fabric beneath his fingers; trying to control his temper.

"That means _nothing _to me. Age is but a number, and has not stopped people before! I know what I feel, and what I want. And I shall not let such a silly notion get in the way of that!" Young Maxwell spoke with such fierce passion; pulling on the front of Anderson's robes, as he bared his teeth in anger at being denied over something he saw as so trivial. The priest sighed and shook his head.

"It's more thon that laddie. Ye cannae jus go around kissin' and declarin' yer love like that. We could both get inta quite a bit 'a trouble for it." He tried to explain, but it seemed the boys mind was made, and he would remain quite unyielding about his decision on the matter.

"I understand, and I need no declarations of love from the rooftops as they say. I am more than satisfied with keeping this our secret if you are Father." The youth reasoned stubbornly. It was really difficult for him to argue with the silverette, and he found himself chortling in spite of himself.

"What is so funny?" The boy blinked before scowling; he didn't like the thought of the other laughing at him. But Anderson merely gave a wave of his hand as if to shoo away such angry feelings.

"Noo, noo, dinnae be upset. Ah'm nae laughin' at ye. Merely a' the situation." Though this quelled his temper some, it didn't really help matters.

"There's nothing funny about it Teacher. I just told you that I love you, and you repay my affection with laughter." He gritted his teeth, feeling tears of fury and sadness threatening to form, only to blink and be taken aback when the hand still cupping his face began stroking his cheek with the thumb.

The Paladin's wolfish face softened and he smiled fondly at him; making Maxwell's heart skip a beat. The older man leaned in just until their faces were but a few inches apart, as he spoke in a voice just loud enough for only Maxwell to hear.

"Who said anythin' aboot ma mirth bein' o' mockery? No, Ah dare say dear Maxwell…" His was voice full of amusement as his thumb ever so lightly traced over those pale, pouty lips while green gazed into amethyst.

"Ma laugh was a' how we are noo blessed an' damned, for Ah cannae say that Ah donae return yer affections _most_ sincerely." And with a small smirk, he closed the distances and claimed the surprised yet waiting lips of the silverette in a chaste kiss. Making the other give a mewl of protest when he pulled away after a few seconds. He chortled airily and rested his forehead gingerly to Maxwell's.

It was very hard not to be drawn in by the lad. At least Anderson thought so. There was something about the starry haired youth he found curiously captivating, but being the humble man he was, he never thought his feelings could've been interpreted in any romantic sense.

Even if that is how they ended up being now that the cat was out of the bag. He wanted to tell the boy no, that what they wanted to do was probably wrong or it was a sin, or any of those idiotic excuses or lies. But he simply didn't have the heart to deny nor bear false tongue to such an angelic beauty.

However, the lad was still a pure soul and to be protected. So who better than he to watch over him? Personally, he doubted the silverette wanted it any other way. The Paladin smiled and eased back before grasping Maxwell gently by the chin and using his other hand to fix his hair.

"Thar, noo ye look more presentable." He commented crisply before standing. Maxwell ended up rising with him, and almost felt out of his chair, as he was still clinging to the priest. The taller caught the slender youth effortlessly, and for a moment held him there and tried not to laugh when he shot the blonde that trademark glaring pout he did so well.

"Ah think we've been in here lang enough." Anderson explained good naturedly; giving the other a pat on the head. He turned and began heading for the door.

"Come noo Maxwell, musnae make the others wonder where we are." He said as he held open the door and gestured for the lad to follow him. A small incline of his head and the young man reluctantly headed out with Anderson close behind.

"Teacher…" The quiet tone caused the priest to stop and look down to the lad beside him. Soulful, large eyes shone up at him as pink dusted the youths face prettily. He waited patiently for the other to continue.

"Do you think… I could have another kiss before we join the others?" The priest tilted his head slightly to the side as he smiled fondly; kneeling down on one knee again so that he could oblige.

The boys eyes lit up as the left gave a slight twitch, and a small and lovely smile graced his fair face. Graceful, spindly fingers eagerly reaching up to grasp onto the black garb, as large, warm hands rested on his small shoulders. They leaned forward and met in the middle; Maxwell cocking his head slightly to the side to better kiss _his_ Paladin.

The kiss started out rather chaste, but when the blonde tried to pull away, he found the other holding on as tightly as he could and give a little noise of displeasure to make him stay. He smiled into the kiss as Maxwell drew him closer and it become more passionate.

After a few minutes of the silverette basking in the blissfully heated kiss, he had to break away for air; his face flushed and heart beating rapidly. Anderson smiled; in a similar but better condition as he gave the boy a small peck before standing back up slowly so that the others fingers slipped from his attire.

They exchanged smiles before walking down the empty corridor again. And since it was allowed and not frowned upon when one did so, Maxwell took Anderson's hand in his and held it in an adorably possessive way.

After his usual chores, and getting dinner ready (which Maxwell helped do of course, the clingy darlin'), it was off for the rest of his routine, and then bed. Anderson made sure all was well in the orphanage before heading off to get cleaned up and get some shuteye as well; his mind full of what had happened today.

The Iscariot agent was still rather unsure about all of it. Sure, he cared dearly for the lad, but their age difference was something that others would take into question if they were ever discovered.

What would happen to the darling youth then? It would be all his fault if something went wrong and the boy was punished… Ah, but if the other wanted to be with him, there wasn't much he could do. He knew he couldn't bear to break such a pouty angels heart, even if it was for the best.

But who was he to judge what was right or wrong for the other? The choice to love whom he wanted was one for himself to make, not Anderson. He heaved a heavy sigh as he entered his room; now cleaned up for the night and ready to lay his weary head to rest for the evening.

Anderson tugged off his grey cassock and hung it up. The room was fairly dark, so when he took off his clerical collar and undid the top of his black priest shirt; revealing the tan, muscular torso beneath, and heard the sharp intake of breath, he quickly turned on the light.

His eyes widened in surprise to see none other than the starry haired youth; sitting on his bed and watching him with a mixture of surprise and hunger.

"What in the name o' the Al' Mighty are ye doin' in here Maxwell?" The Paladin asked in a level yet annoyed tone for having been given such a start. He observed how the boy licked his lips as those violet orbs eyed the bare chest.

"Heh, ye look like ae starved wolf that's don found his prey." Anderson commented in amusement. The boy scowled at him, but couldn't really protest to that.

"Noo answer ma question or Ah'll boot ye oot." The taller crossed his arms over his chest, and Enrico didn't doubt that the blonde would. He cleared his throat, but didn't take his eyes off the bits of exposed flesh he was ogling.

"Please Father Anderson, I would like to stay the night in here." Maxwell answered politely; already sitting on the bed and looking quite at home. He had been waiting a while for the other to arrive.

"Ah donae know…" Anderson muddled aloud; looking skeptical about it.

"I-I can wake up early and be back to my room before anyone notices!" He tried to reason quickly. Alexander frowned but decided what to do.

"Well… Alright… but jus for tonight. An' ye best behave yerself." Maxwell actually brightened at that; nodding in agreement and smiling like the cat who got the mouse. His left eye gave a little twitch of excitement; a tic that he'd always had, and that the priest found cute since he knew it meant the other was happy.

He gave a chortle of amusement as the boy began folding over the other side of the bed; getting it ready for the blonde. A moments consideration of whether or not it was wise to finish undressing in front of the other before he ended up deciding to anyway. It wasn't like he had any place else to do it. He went to start again, only to be stopped by the other.

"W-wait…" The silverette blurted blushingly. Anderson quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate.

"I could… help you with that… if it's okay Teacher." His bonny face became redder as he tried to bite back his nervousness. It was possible that he might get rejected, but he had to try.

"Hmm… Ah suppose…" Not seeing the harm in it, he moved his hands out of the way and walked up to the end of the bed. Maxwell had to fight to keep himself from scrambling over to the man. He stood up and tried to keep calm; his eye giving another twitch like the fingers that reached eagerly for the shirt first.

Maxwell slid his hands underneath of it; the tips of his fingers brushing over the sun kissed skin and making the lad shudder at the contact. How many nights since he'd met the Paladin, and had such thoughts, did he wonder just what it was like to touch him like this?

To have this stunning man standing before him, to run his hands over the rippling muscles of the lean specimen of a priest like he began doing, and have him all alone. Maxwell was so enamored that he had almost forgotten he was supposed to be undressing the blonde.

The Iscariot agent had to admit that it felt rather nice the way the other was caressing him. And he liked that pretty little moan the boy made when he drew a sharp hiss from the blonde as he experimentally gave the bud of flesh on his chest a squeeze.

Young Maxwell looked like he was lost in a lusty dream; eyes hooded and hazy as he explored the broad chest. He leaned in slowly toward the mans firm pectoral; his tongue lolling out as his mouth opened in the hopes of tasting the flesh he's just pinched.

But a hand came up and rested on his head; holding him back. He was a little over an inch away, and he stuck his tongue out as far as it would go; wriggling it to try and achieve his goal. The Paladin chuckled and held him firmly in place.

"What did Ah tell ye aboot behavin'?" The lad peered up at him with a pout.

"Please? Just a taste…?" Good Lord what was he supposed to do when he got such a heart rendering look with those big, doll eyes? He heaved a sigh, and tried to at least say no to one thing.

"Ah'm tired an' need sleep. Besides, ye shouldnae rush this." It was true, and Maxwell supposed he agreed, but that didn't mean he was going to be too happy about it. He exhaled in disappointment, but figured he might as well enjoy the rest of the undressing.

Though he did his best to keep himself composed, it was very difficult to do so as he snaked his slender hands back under the shirt; taking his time sliding it off as he felt every inch of skin he could get away with.

Maxwell's whole body feel all warm and fuzzy like he was covered in static electricity; every touch or simple brush of skin against skin and he felt little jolts of pleasure. It enticed him and made him crave to do more, but the firm gaze the priest had on him and remembering to behave helped to frustratingly keep him in check.

Now with the top off, he took a steadying breath before crawling off of the bed to stand before Anderson; who courteously turned to face him, placing his hands on his hips to get them out of the lads way.

He watched the smaller male with interest; finding it to be quite a tantalizing and interesting way to get undressed. Maxwell was trying to do everything as sensually as possible in the hopes of getting Anderson to _want _to do more.

But, his fingers ended up fidgeting with the belt in his anxiousness to try and get it off. He gave a huff and tried again, but started when large hands enclosed lightly over his. They moved them aside and undid the accursed accessory for him.

The silverette glared up at the priest who only smiled warmly in return and gave the lad an encouraging pat on the head. That at least softened the glare to a mild pout, as Maxwell went back to what he was doing, or undoing as it were.

The button wasn't nearly as aggravating as the belt, but it still put up a bit of a challenge. It was so different than dressing and undressing himself, but Anderson was very supportive and patient; soothingly stroking his starry hair.

When he got to the zipper, Maxwell had to resist the urge to run his hands over the outside of the front of the pants to feel what was underneath. He hooked those adroit fingers of his underneath the hem and began pushing them down; kneeling with them and caressing the firm, muscled legs.

Maxwell dared to gaze up from his position of being on his knees in front of the other; only to groan at seeing all of the athletic form before him. Could there be a more perfect specimen of man to behold? The lad knew it might be considered blasphemy, but he so badly wanted to worship this magnificent man.

The Paladin only wore a pair of black boxers now, which oddly complimented him. Maxwell's tongue flitted over his lips again as he wondered what treasure lay hidden underneath it, only a little surprised when Anderson stepped back and out of the pants to get them off.

He held his hand out, and it took a moment before the lad realized what he wanted, and handed him the garment to fold and put them aside since he had only put them on after his shower (disliking wandering around the orphanage in his pajamas). Maxwell got to his feet; his sleepwear was rather simple, merely a creamy white nightgown that looked more like a long shirt on him.

Anderson moved to the dresser to put on a pair of pajamas but when a pair of small hands grasped his wrist to stop him, his emerald gazed settled on a disapproving Maxwell. He smiled softly and shook his head. Such a demanding lad, but quite adorable indeed.

Instead of putting on any clothes, he allowed himself to be lead back to the bed. Anderson stopped the lad from climbing onto the bed, before kneeling down in front of it, and the silverette quickly followed suit.

"Always say yer prayers aforebed, dear Maxwell." He smiled genially as the boy returned it with a smaller one of his own and a faint blush.

"Yes, Father Anderson." And with that, they said their prayers, and got into bed; with Anderson having shut the light off before he did so.

Maxwell waited until the man was settled; having watched as the blonde placed his glasses beside him on the bedside table, and getting ready to remove his gloves, when suddenly, Anderson found a light pressure on the tip of the middle finger of his right hand.

Looking to see what was going on, he gave an airy chortle as he saw the silverette had the tip of the digit in his mouth. The young man fixed his teeth on the tip of the fabric and pulled it off. He did the same to the other and handed them to the priest; who placed them beside his glasses.

Enrico hadn't seen the good Father without his glasses before, but he looked just as good. The orphan laid down right beside the man, and snuggled right up to him. The Iscariot priest did not mind and found it was much more pleasant to have a warm body next to him.

The lithe body slunk up his like a sly serpent, and he felt a hand on the side of his face with the faint scar. Maxwell leaned down and pressed a kiss to the others lips, and was delighted as always that it was returned.

He accidentally went to lick his lips, and the pink little muscle slid right across Anderson's, making the youth quiver. So Maxwell did it again, wanting a better taste. The Paladin smirked and the third time the lad tried it, he caught the warm, fleshy bit between his teeth and caused the other to gasp.

The blonde chortled before stealing it away into his mouth and sliding his own over it; eliciting such a pretty moan from the young man, that he greedily swallowed up. The kiss was calm yet undeniably amorous; their tongues dueling with one another, but more for pleasure than power.

They were both in need of air, and only broke away long enough before Maxwell would come back for more; not that Anderson wasn't thoroughly enjoying himself. In fact, one of his hands rested on the small of the lads back while the other was tangled in those silvery silken locks.

He'd never touched them without his gloves before but had always wondered just how they felt. After a few minutes of Maxwell trying quite enthusiastically to devour him, the Paladin thought they should take a break since he was still tired from his combined duties as an Iscariot agent and a caretaker at the orphanage.

The younger gave a little growl of protest only to be quelled by a soft and apologetic peck. The silverette tried to sneak in for more, but Anderson wrapped one of his strong arms around the youth and held him firmly in place.

"Be good now ye amorous wee angel, lest Ah give ye no more kisses when the morrow come." Anderson warned with a hint of amusement. Maxwell gave a huff but settled down; resting his head in the crook of the priests neck and nuzzling it blushingly. He liked it when the blonde called him nice things.

"Yes Father Anderson…" The frustrated young man replied grumpily. Now that he was getting them, the silverette wasn't sure he'd be able to go very long without his Paladin's addicting kisses. So he'd have to behave and hope he could persuade the priest to let him stay another night later.

"Goodnight Maxwell." His Paladin told him after giving him a kiss to the top of his head. The youth had his arms and legs wrapped around the object of his affections and he gave the older man another nuzzle.

"Goodnight Teacher… I love you." He added the last bit hopefully, and felt his heart gladden when it earned him a squeeze and what the man said next.

"Ah love ye tae." The blonde answered sincerely and held the lad protectively, though even the silverette felt the possessiveness behind it and trembled with joy; snuggled closer like he could melt right into his beloved Paladin.

The two fell asleep like that, and slept quite serenely on and into the next morning. Neither could remember having had a better sleep, and when the morrow came with the rising of the sun peeking in through the drawn curtains on the window, Anderson stirred and made sure to help Maxwell keep his word about returning before anyone noticed. Though the lad really didn't want to go, and even Anderson knew his company would be well missed.

He sent the boy off with a sweet morning kiss, as Maxwell refused to go until he got one; making the Iscariot agent and hunter of evil laugh and give him one. The silverette was a bit pouty about it, but left rather happily with his kiss to sneak back to his room to prepare for the day.

Though Maxwell did ask again to stay the night, Anderson told him they should take things gradually so they could both adjust better and be able to keep their relationship a hidden one. The silverette begrudgingly agreed because he wanted it to work and he could have his dashing blonde all to himself.

So time went on, and the two grew steadily closer as it did. They eventually worked it out for Maxwell to spend a reasonable amount of nights sleeping with Alexander in his bed, and although the priest made the other agree that they would only go beyond touching and kissing, and things of the more sexual nature when Maxwell turned of age, it still made the lad pout. Even if he knew it was for both their sakes to wait.

The years came and went, and Enrico Maxwell seemed to grow more beautiful with every passing day in Anderson's opinion. The Paladin however, ended up undergoing a process for his work in hunting evil and being a divine instrument of God by becoming a Regenerator. So his aging ceased, and in the silverettes opinion, he stayed just as perfect as he always had.

By now, Maxwell was working for the Iscariot Organization as Anderson's superior. A position he much cherished and took pleasure in having. Because that meant that he really did have his Paladin all to himself; at his very command even!

It was like a dream come true! The man he loved, a position of power and status, and soon, he wouldn't be looked down upon by the ingrates and idiots of the world! He could feel it! Greater things were on the horizon, and his future looked brighter with each kiss he received and every second he was held in his handsome hunters arms.

When the fated day of his eighteenth birthday arrived, there was of course the standard celebration his underlings threw for him, but what he looked forward to (as he did every year) was the private one that Anderson gave him.

A few years before, he had asked Maxwell what he wanted, and the young man had told him that he wanted his white clerical collar. It was a bit of a modest request, but it had a deeper meaning to it than most would expect.

Anderson was only allowed to wear one when at the orphanage, but otherwise, he went without one while working for Iscariot. And around his own neck, the Section XIII leader wore his blondes collar, and had from then on.

But for this year, Maxwell had asked for a much more _intimate_ gift so to speak. This would finally be the year he would get to lose control and have Anderson in a way that no one else would.

His emerald eyed priest lead him to Maxwell's bedroom and locked the door behind them. It was really _their_ room, but seeing as how their lives were the way they were, they still had to keep it under wraps to stay together and pretend that Anderson didn't share his bed almost every night.

Their gloves were the first things to get tossed before the priest had him against the wall. Maxwell leaned his head back and groaned invitingly when Anderson leaned in and bit down on his clerical collar; removing it with his teeth.

They didn't even try to take things slow when it came to removing the rest of most of their clothes. Anderson's were the first to go; the now experienced fingers of the young man undoing them with hastened ease, before the slim youth found his hands being held firmly above his head by one large one.

When it was Maxwell's turn, he found his breath hitching when the feel of cold, smooth blessed silver was placed against his slender neck. Anderson gave him a devilish smirk as he slid the blunt side of the bayonet down the delectable flesh to the collar of the shirt.

He sliced off the buttons with a precision that sent chills running down the silverettes spine and straight to his groin. His back arched and he moaned breathily, when the tip of the blade parted his white top and was then dragged down from his Adam's apple to his stomach; scratching the flawless skin and leaving a faint red mark upon it.

In doing so, Anderson gave a low growl; taking in the beauty of his amorous angel reacting to his ministrations. He took great pleasure in the fact that Maxwell was still as sensitive and responsive as when they first kissed.

So, he decided to reward him. He skillfully sliced just enough into the skin right across the silverettes heart to make him bleed; drawing a cry of pain and pleasure from him.

"Mmm, ma dearly beloved… ye do make such beautiful music when engrossed by the throes o' passion." Anderson tantalized huskily into his ear; giving the lobe a sharp nip and drawing more fascinating sounds from the youth.

"Aye… sing for me, ma love!" The Paladin told him encouragingly; moving to lap at the blood trickling from the fresh and shallow wound. It wasn't anything that couldn't heal or be treated by a bandage. But somehow it made what they were doing so much hotter.

"Let all o' Heaven shed tears o' envy o' ma angels voice, an' know that such ae beauteous, sylphlike creature is mine an' mine alone!" The blonde rumbled possessively; taking the bloody flesh between his teeth and biting down on it.

Maxwell cried out; arching into the brutally loving treatment and earning him a soothing lick and kiss to the cut. God he loved it when Anderson talked to him like that! It always set him aflame, even when it was one of those religious rants of his before the blonde set to laying waste to some despicable heathen wretch.

"A-Anderson…" He moaned breathlessly; violet orbs clouded heavy with lust. Emerald eyes that matched the state of his own came level with his, before his own fluttered closed and his mouth claimed in a soul stealing kiss.

The sound of the bayonet dropping and stabbing into the floor could be vaguely distinguished by his hazy mind, and he might fuss at the Paladin later (though more than likely he'd just put a rug over it or something) for having put another damn hole in their room.

His fingers twitched and flexed. He really wanted to be touching the hunter. And since it _was_ his birthday, Anderson let him go. One hand snaked fingers into the spiky blonde hair to better deepen the kiss, while the other pressed against the small of the larger mans back to pull him nearer.

The rest of the clothes were quickly shed, and without breaking the kiss, the two managed to find their way onto the bed. Anderson let himself fall back onto it with the others svelte form on top of him; easily flipping them over so that he was now on top. His hands by now having memorized every inch of skin and tracing over the creamy, trembling body beneath his lovingly with rough, calloused hands.

They were indeed quite opposites. Tan against alabaster, rough against smooth, but they melted together so wonderfully that neither servant of God could ever think they weren't made for each other.

Positions switched as each took their ample turn in delighting in the heavenly sins of the others flesh. Bites and harsh scratches were soothed by licks and kisses and caresses, with the arousing knowledge that these marks would last at least on Maxwell for days or even weeks; only and most likely to be covered by all the ones to come, and serve as delightful reminders of how they came to be.

Soon a pained whimper of discomfort from the silverette was consumed by a particularly ravenous kiss, as Anderson began to stretch the dear Iscariot leader with his fingers coated in lavender scented oil (Maxwell did so love the color purple, and it suited him very well at that).

His Paladin sweetly did a good job of distracting him from the ministrations being given to his untried body. And then, as the pain ebbed away, the younger male found himself thrusting back onto the invading digits; needing more and very feverously letting his lover know it.

Anderson withdrew his fingers, making the other gasp and mewl at the sudden empty feeling. He slicked himself up with oil quite thoroughly, knowing this would be the lovely lads first time, he wanted it to be special and to not damage him.

So he took his time easing himself in; all the while speaking soothing words to the other in-between comforting kisses. Maxwell bit his bottom lip, trying not to scream at how much it hurt to have the Regenerator entering the tight ring of muscle.

The silverette took slow, shaky breathes, trying to relax and marveling at just how big the other was. It was obvious from the look of the man really, even with clothes on you could guess and be right that those bayonets of his weren't the only divine instruments he was packing.

But for Maxwell, it was the only one he wanted with all his soul to be impaling him. His Paladin took it slow, and inch by torturously tantalizing inch, he finally pushed in until he could go no further before letting the other adjust.

Despite the agony, it felt better than he had expected, and he wrapped his willowy legs around the priests waist before he could realize what he was doing, and arched into the muscular body above him; making the man groan and roll his hips to meet him. Maxwell threw his head back and opened his mouth in a silent scream.

It had hurt, but at the same time it felt equally, if not more so, good. He and Anderson exchanged looks and the blonde smiled, giving him a sweet kiss before starting to thrust in and out of the silverettes luscious, virgin body in a slow and steady pace. Maxwell curled his fingers into the velvety sheets as if it were an anchor, keeping him tethered to reality.

The birthday boy made all manner of glorious melodies as he penetrated the sumptuous angel deeper and harder; angling just right and making the Iscariot leader see white and beg oh so beautifully for him to hit that sweet spot again. And he was more than happy to oblige.

Their movements became erratic as Maxwell pushed back wantonly in time with each thrust; adding to the pleasure for both men, especially when his tight walls clamped down on Anderson when he pulled back.

Like the lascivious lad wanted to consume him fully in that enveloping heat and never let go. It made the hunter growl possessively and claim those deliciously swollen lips in another kiss; biting and tugging on the silverettes bottom lip teasingly.

Maxwell felt that he was nearing his end soon, and whimpered as he reached down to touch his neglected, aching need; only for his hand to be knocked away by the Paladin and replaced with his own.

He panted and writhed beneath the only person he'd ever surrender to, as his body was ravished with all the love the priest had to offer, and his mind overwhelmed with such pleasures he didn't even fear if it drove him insane or landed him in Hell. It was worth every mind-blowing moment.

They were both so close now, and the two lovers could sense it. This beautiful bout was going to come to an end any second now. Maxwell bit down hard on Anderson's lip; making it bleed and sucking hungrily at it, making the hunter groan and give squeeze the firm flesh he'd been stroking a rough squeeze.

And that was it for the young man, as he came; screaming his lovers name for all of Heaven and Hades to hear. His eyes rolled back into his head, his back arched and his body convulsed like a man possessed.

But to Anderson, Maxwell couldn't have looked more beautiful than he did right now, lost and drowning in ardor and shouting his name like that. It drove the already insane religious fanatic over the edge.

Maxwell moaned and mewled; squeezing his legs tightly around the blondes waist when he felt stream after stream of hot seed filling him and claiming him as Anderson's. While the hunter chanted the silverettes name like a prayer; giving a few more thrusts each time he said it, until he was finally spent. And eased himself down before flipping his slender lover on top to avoid damaging him.

They lay there, panting with a thin sheen of perspiration covering their bodies, and basked blissfully in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Maxwell affectionately leaned into the others touch when he reached up to stroke his sweat dampened hair. And he turned his head just so, in order to give his beloved teacher a gentle kiss.

Maxwell rested his head over the others heart, and closed his eyes. Anderson gave a tired chortle and combed his fingers through the sleepy lads hair.

"Happy Birthday Maxwell… Ah do love ye so." The hunter rumbled fondly.

"I love you too… Anderson." The lad yawned. And it wasn't but a few moments longer before sleep befell him, and after pulling up the covers over them both, the priest followed suit. The divine instrument of God holding his beloved angel protectively as they slept, and praying for their good fortune together to continue…

And it did, for quite a while. But alas, all good things must come to an end eventually. Or so it's been said. In their case, it did, and it came in the form of a fat bastard Nazi by the name of the Major, and his ragtag band of demonic waste known as Millennium.

It was then that the Bishop of Iscariot saw his chance to keep that promise he'd made his Judas Priest so long ago, when they first met. And though the Paladin wasn't all too keen on it, Maxwell began putting his plans into motion to become an Archbishop and lead his first crusade; that would also quite sadly be his last…

He'd always given everything he had to his darling Maxwell. Anything that was ever asked of him belonged to the other; who so happily delighted in having his Paladin wholeheartedly and in every sense of the term.

It didn't matter that his arm was now barely dangling from his body by a few strings of meat, it did not matter that a vampiric monster was taunting him into a fight that he probably could not win in his current condition, it didn't matter that he was about to give up his humanity; one of the few things he had left besides his life, nor if he were even capable of destroying the bloody monster he faced.

All that mattered to him had been Maxwell and his own beliefs. But now that the other no longer wielded the mighty sword that was the Iscariot Regenerator in the name of God. Or that now his beloved angel had been tainted by the corruption of power and hatred, that had festered in him like a dark and demonic seed and fallen from grace; only for Anderson to have had to have been the one to be the silverettes undoing… it didn't make any difference now.

It didn't matter how the No Life King, monster of monsters, had begged and warned him so harshly not to become one of God's Monsters, or that he would lose the last of his humanity in the process…

All he had ever wanted to do was become one of the Lord's weapons, that he might smite evil and bring forth His wrath upon all those heathens and beasts who dared blaspheme and try to force their horror and filth upon the innocent.

He wanted his beloved Bishop (or he supposed Archbishop now) to have continued to fight by his side, to use the Paladin like one of his blessed bayonets to render and tear the demons of this world asunder, and forever remain in his faithful embrace where he had hoped to protect the lad.

So when he shove the Nail of Helena through his heart; impaling it as its holy power overtook him, it was for his beliefs and for his now lost lover. Thoughts of his beautiful silver haired angel flashed through his mind all throughout the fight and only served to fuel his wrath.

However, so as it has been said many a time by that bloody vampire, that No Life King, that smug bastard Alucard… Only a human can kill a monster. And so it would come to pass that the Regenerator would not best this beast.

No indeed, he would be bested by him instead! And as he began to fade, and ashes became ashes, and dust to dust, Anderson smiled contentedly and even consoled the grieving bloodsucking monster, for he began to hear the calling of children in some far off distance…

The one he heard most distinctively, was the sweet voice of his Maxwell, calling him home to be in his arms, to hurry up because he missed him; the lads voice ever impatient and needy that he wanted to laugh as he could hear the pout he undoubtedly and only wore just for his Paladin.

'_Dinnae fret ma sweet angel… ye willnae be alone ane langer, for Ah shall be joinin' ye soon.' _He thought blissfully as he gazed up at the endless heavens above.

And as the dawn finally came, the darkness fell and he departed from this mortal coil with a smile and the happy thought of being reunited, whether it was in Heaven, Hell or Purgatory, with his dearly beloved Maxwell… And that when they were together once more, nothing would _ever_ tear his angel from his arms again.

* * *

**_~Fin~_**

* * *

**Wow... I actually wrote a really sad story. XD At least, I know the ending was. LMFAO! But that's how it happened in the manga, them dying I mean, so yeah. It was to be expected. **

**I love how Anderson says stuff by the way. It was one of the main reasons I wrote this pairing. I wanted to write lines of him saying stuff. And yes, I very much love it when characters like Alucard and Anderson go on their psychotic rants. XD It reminds me of myself when it happens to me, except I sadly do not get to make money off of mine... at least not yet! Kuwahahahahahahah! Lmfao anyways!**

**Thanks for reading! :3 If you liked this, yah might wanna check out my other Hellsing fanfic called "Hellsing: The Dusk". **

**Remember to Review because all us authors like 'em and they make us wanna write more good fics! XD**


End file.
